


Trust

by fallingleaves



Series: Chronicles of the Allen Children [9]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Pain, Phobias, Stitches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-11
Updated: 2017-02-11
Packaged: 2018-09-23 11:56:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9656507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallingleaves/pseuds/fallingleaves
Summary: Barry and Len are together and have five children, one of whom, Lucas, is a speedster, and as a speedster he can't have anesthetics or any painkillers.  He get's hurt and needs stitches.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys, so this one is a bit different, so please read the rest of this note. This is just a snippet of something I wrote up, and I figured I'd post it since I have it, but it takes place a little farther in the future than the rest of my fics in this series. Here, Lucas is around 22, and Michael 24. The rest of the kids are not in this fic. Amy is Lucas's long time girlfriend, and she makes an appearance here. (I actually have significant others figured out for all the kids but haven't had a fic where I've written them in yet - I've basically just become way too invested in all of the kids lives and they all have fairly fleshed out adult lives in my mind as well.) Michael is still in school to become a doctor, which is where he comes in for this fic. Also, of note for this story - Lucas is really terrified of being held down, a fear he acquired after he had surgery for an ACL tear, in another one of my stories. 
> 
> WARNING for some graphic medical details, which includes some blood and injury. Nothing too bad, along the lines of my other fics in this series, maybe not quite as bad as some. 
> 
> Anyway, you guys should let me know what you think of this one, because it takes place when they're adults. I'm not sure if you guys are interested in stories like that, so let me know if you like it or not. I like writing them as young adults too, but it takes Barry and Len and everyone else a bit more out of the picture, and I like writing about them too.

            He kept quiet for the first ten minutes.  Mouth pressed to a thin line, teeth clenched, Lucas sat up straight on the bed and forced himself to stay rigid, to not flinch away or jolt with every sharp flare of pain.

            He was crushing Amy’s hand, but she didn’t say anything.  She stood in front of him, holding his shaking hand in hers, her other hand on his thigh, rubbing back and forth.

            He had to stay still.  He focused on that, on staying still.  He had to keep his body still, to control his muscles, to control the instinct to jerk away from the pain.

            “Halfway there,” Michael said from behind him.  His voice was quiet – the whole room was quiet, filled with the gentle clink of tools and Lucas’s sharp breathing.

            He had to stay still.  If he just kept concentrating on staying still then everything would be fine.  He just had to stay still.  If he focused hard enough, he could almost block out the pain.

            When Michael got to the part where the cut crossed his spine, where the bone was close enough to the surface that the cut had nicked the bone itself, Lucas flinched.

            No one said anything.  Lucas just moved back again, shuddered, and squeezed his eyes shut.  He couldn’t move.  He had to not move.  Had to stay still.  Pain laced up and down his back, burst in painful flashes right under his skin, like Michael was driving a knife into his back instead of just a needle and thread.

            He let out a groan when he placed the next stitch, and Michael could see his muscles all tensing, but Lucas didn’t move.

            Couldn’t move, had to stay still. _Just stay still.  Just don’t move.  Everything will be fine as long as you don’t move._

            He had to keep telling himself it, had to keep it on loop, couldn’t let himself think anything else, focus on anything else, or the pain would swell over him, over his head, pull him under.  He just had to keep concentrating on keeping still.

            He flinched again when Michael stitched over a knob of his spine.  He forced himself back again, but pain burst white hot under his skin and he jerked away again, before he could even register it, before he could even feel it really.  He gritted his teeth together and let out a horrible whine – air rushing through his teeth as he tried to hold the noise back.  He started to shake, a full body shudder that just wouldn’t stop.  Michael pressed against Lucas’s back to steady him, to keep his back still so he could work, and Lucas choked on a sob.

            _Just keep still, just keep still, just don’t move and it’ll be over soon_.  He kept repeating it, gripped Amy’s hand harder, gripped the edge of the bed with his other hand.  _Just keep still, just don’t move, don’t move_.  He jerked forward when Michael dug needle and thread into the muscle of his back.  Tears welled up in his eyes.  _Don’t move, don’t move, shit, don’t fucking move, don’t._

            “Baby,” Amy said, and Lucas opened his eyes.  She squeezed his thigh.  “I think it’s time to lie down.”

            Lucas felt a cold wash of fear run down his spine.  He shook his head, swallowed hard.  “I can stay still,” he said.  _I can do it, I can, I will, I’ll stay still, I won’t move_. 

            Michael paused, and reached up to squeeze Lucas’s shoulder.  “You’re shaking a lot, Luke.  I can get this done faster for you if you lie down.”

            Lucas shook his head.  _Just stay still, just stay still_.  “I – I can stop.  Just – just give me a minute.  I’ll stop.”

            “Sweetheart,” Amy said, reaching up to cup his face now.  “It’s time to lie down now.”

            “No,” Lucas said.  He shook his head, eyes wide, his whole body going cold.  “No, I – I can do it.”

            “I’ll help you lie down,” Amy said.  “Come on, just swing your feet up.”

            “Amy,” he said.  _No, no, I can stay still, I’ll do a better job, please, one more chance, please._

            “Shh,” she said, and she still had a hand on his face.  A tear ran down his cheek and his bottom lip trembled.  “It’s OK,” she said, “we’re gonna finish this up for you now, OK?”

            “I – I wanna sit up,” he said, “I can do it – I’ll stay still.”  He closed his eyes again, whole body shaking, and let out a sob.  “Please don’t,” he said, “I – please.”

            “We’re just lying down, baby,” she said, “nothing else.  You’re just gonna lie down, Lucas.  You’re doing such a good job for us.  We just need you to lie down, nothing else now.”

            “Nothing else,” he said.  He felt numb, whole body cold and trembling.

            “Nothing else,” she said, voice quiet, gentle.  She ran her thumb across his cheek, erasing a tear track there.  “Nothing else, babe, I promise.”

            The trust in his eyes nearly killed her.  Every time they did this she wondered if today was the day she’d be forced to break that trust.

            He pulled his legs up onto the bed, shaking the whole time.  She ran her hand over his arm when he lowered himself down onto his stomach.  He was breathing too fast, faster than he had been before.

            “I’m going to start, Luke,” Michael said.  Lucas squeezed his eyes shut again, only to open them and look desperately at Amy.  She held his hand tightly, and stroked his hair with her other hand.

            “Nothing else,” she said, “you’re OK.”

            He tensed when Michael started, and then shook worse.  He kept flinching, but now he had nowhere to pull away too.  Instead the pain kept coming, kept mounting, until whimpers started to break past his lips, and then eventually sobs.  Tears ran down his face and Amy kept stroking his hair, kept holding his hand even as he bruised hers.

            Michael grimaced, fought to keep his hands steady, to not slow, not fumble.  It always got worse once Lucas started to cry.  He still wasn’t used to it, still couldn’t really handle it.  He’d never had to restrain him, and he hoped he never had to.  He didn’t know what he’d do if Lucas was begging him to stop.  He’d heard him begging Caitlin before.  He didn’t think he could keep going if it was him he was pleading with.

            “Almost done,” Michael said, but his voice came out too quiet and he wasn’t sure Lucas heard him. 

            Lucas thrust his arm in back of him, grabbing at Michael’s hand then.  Michael nearly yelled, jolting and trying to steady the needle.  His first instinct was to grab Lucas’s arm and pull it away, but he froze instead.  Lucas’s chest heaved.

            For a moment, they were all silent, frozen.  Then Amy spoke, voice quiet and careful.  “Lucas, baby,” she said, “we need you to move your arm back.”

            He shook his head.  “Hurts,” he said, “A-Amy, hurts.”

            “I know, baby,” she said, “but Michael’s almost done now.  It’s almost over.  We need you to move your arm so he can finish.”

            He took in a heaving breath.  “Five – five minutes.”

            Amy looked up at Michael.  Michael looked down at his brother’s skin, where the edges were healing apart, wrong.  He shook his head.

            “We need you to move your hand now, baby,” Amy said.

            Lucas’s eyes squeezed shut.  “Please.”

            “I’m sorry, sweetheart, we can’t,” Amy said.  “Can you please move your arm for us, baby?”

            Lucas let out a sob, but he moved his arm back.

            Amy kissed his forehead.  “Thank you baby – you’re doing so well.  It’s almost done now.  Almost done.”

            Michael set back to stitching.  Another minute and Lucas was grabbing at his hand again, trying to cover the area he was stitching, so he couldn’t get at it, but this time it was more frantic, and he twisted his body, trying to turn away.

            “Baby, you need to move your hand,” Amy said.

            Lucas let out a sob.  “It hurts,” he said, “I can’t, it hurts.”

            “I know it hurts, sweetheart,” Amy said, “but it’s almost over, and Michael just needs to finish up this last bit, then it’ll be all done.”

            “Please, I can’t,” Lucas said, “I – Amy, _please_.”

            “It’s almost done, Luke,” she said.  She leaned in close, kept stroking his hair, watching as tears welled up in his eyes, as desperation and fear and pain swirled there.  “I promise it’s almost over now, but you need to move your hand, baby.  Michael needs to finish.”

            He kept choking on sobs, kept his hand wrenched up behind him, grabbing at Michael’s tools.  He kept his eyes on Amy’s, close to his now, just a few inches away.

            Amy took a breath, and then carefully, gently reached up to his other hand, fingers wrapping around his.

            “No,” he said, and suddenly he was hyperventilating, trembling all over, twisting to try to sit up.  “You said you wouldn’t – you said you –”

            “I’m not,” Amy said, “shh, baby, I’m not.  I just need you to let go, OK?  I’m not holding your arm down.”

            She pried his fingers off, and when she guided his hand away he let her.  She pressed his hand down to the side of the bed.

            “Hold on to the edge, OK?” she said, folding his fingers over the side of the bed.  “Just hold on.  It’s almost done now.”

            Michael started again.  Lucas closed his eyes, turned his head and pressed his forehead against the bed, then turned to the side again, back towards Amy.

            “H-hurts,” he said.

            “I know, baby.  It’s almost done,” Amy said, once again stroking his hair.

            He cried, trembling.  He was in so much pain, fire all the way up his back – it was painful enough without Michael stabbing at him, pulling his skin taunt and tying the edges back together again.  He was at the end of his rope, needed it to be over, needed it to be done.  He wanted to put his hand up again, anything to make it stop, but he was scared – terrified they were going to hold his arms down if he tried.  He wanted to sit up again.  He wanted to sit up again – he’d hold still.  He would, if he could just sit up again.

            When Michael finally tied off the last stitch, when he finally put his tools down and placed his hand on Lucas’s good shoulder instead, it felt like Lucas had been lying there forever.

            “I’m all done,” Michael said, “it’s all done, Luke.”

            Lucas felt a wave of relief as soon as Michael stopped placing stitches.  It was over, finally over.  He started to sit up.

            “Easy,” Michael said, “Luke – don’t – you’re going to tear the stitches.”

            “Just – just – wait,” Lucas said, struggling up.  He had to sit up, had to get upright – he couldn’t breathe.

            “Lucas – careful, baby.  Please, easy now,” Amy said.

            Lucas sat up, was still panting, still trembling, but he felt better as soon as he was upright.  His body was still flooded with adrenaline though, still singing with pain.  He couldn’t stop shaking.

            “Easy, baby,” Amy said.  She rubbed a hand over his thigh again.  “It’s all done.  It’s all over.”

            “I want – I want to go home,” Lucas said.  He turned to Michael.  “It’s – you’re done, right?  I – I can – we can go home now?  Right?”

            “I think it be better if you stay here for a few hours,” Michael said carefully.  Lucas’s face crumpled. 

            “But –”

            “I’ll need to take the stitches out in a few hours anyway,” Michael said, “and you should rest.”

            “No, I –” Lucas started.

            “Luke, why don’t we go into another room and lie down,” Amy said, “you can sleep for a little while.”

            “I don’t want to sleep here,” Lucas said, “Amy –”

            “We’ll go to the bedroom on the second floor,” Amy said, “there’s a regular bed there.  We can both lie down for a while.”

            “Come on,” Lucas said, “I – I just want to go home.”

            Michael sighed.  “I guess I could swing by your place in a few hours.”

            Lucas’s face brightened instantly.  “Yes – I – thank you, Michael, really, I – thank you.”

            “Yeah, whatever,” Michael said, but he smiled.  “But you need to be very, very careful of those stitches.  And absolutely no running.”

            “I have my car,” Amy said.

            “And I want you to lie down when you get back,” Michael said, “on your stomach, and stay still.  Take a nap.”

            “Yes doctor,” Lucas said.

            Michael rolled his eyes.  “Ungrateful brat.”

            Lucas stood up, and his face went pale suddenly.  Michael grabbed his arm.

            “You OK?”

            “Just dizzy,” Lucas said.  He steadied in a second.  “I’m fine.”

            “Take it slow,” Michael said, “eat something when you get back.”

            Lucas groaned.

            “I’ll make sure he eats something,” Amy said.

            They left then.  Amy watched the way Lucas walked – the rigid, stiff step he had.  She watched his face too – the way he kept closing his eyes, kept clenching his teeth.  He was still in a considerable amount of pain, and she had learned how to gauge it based on his reactions, even when he wasn’t talking.

            “How are you doing?” she asked when they were getting close to the apartment.

            “I’ve been better.”

            “One to ten?”

            “Four.”

            She gave him a look.

            “Maybe five.”

            “I’m sorry it still hurts so much.”

            “Not your fault.”

            “We’ll lie down once we get there, OK?  Do you want some ice cream or something?”

            He shook his head.

            When they got there they went straight back to the bedroom.  Amy grabbed sweatpants from a drawer and handed them to Lucas.  She helped him get out of his jeans.  He couldn’t really bend over.

            He lay down on his stomach, and Amy got into bed next to him.  She sat up a bit, and ran her fingers through his hair.  He closed his eyes.

            “Try to sleep, OK?” she said.

            “You know I can’t,” he said softly.

            “You can,” she said, “I’ve seen you do it.  It’s just a bit harder.  Just close your eyes.  Take deep breaths.”

            He was always keyed up after procedures – could never really seem to calm down afterwards.  He had trouble falling asleep after too, and he’d have nightmares.

            “Thank you for coming with me,” he said.  He reached out and traced circles over her skin with a finger.

            “I’ll always go with you,” she said.

            “It’s easier with you,” he said.

            “I’m glad I can help.”

            “I’m sorry I got myself cut open again.”

            “Just be more careful next time,” she said, “don’t go out alone.”

            “I was there though – I couldn’t just not do anything.”

            “Yes you could have.”

            Lucas didn’t say anything.

            She sighed.  “It’s OK,” she said, “I just hate seeing you hurt.”

            “Yeah, I don’t really like it either.”

            She smiled.  “Go to sleep,” she said, “close your eyes.”

            He shut his eyes.  “Fine, fine.”

            “Just try to relax,” she said, “You’re home.  You’re safe.”

            “I know,” he said.

            “I love you.”

            “I love you too.”

            “Good,” she said, “now go to sleep.”

            He smiled, eyes still closed.

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you thought of this, and if you liked it or not. This one is really different for me, because it doesn't have any of the regular Flash characters in it, and I don't know if people still want to read something like that. So please let me know if you liked it and what you thought - as always, thanks for reading!


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